A Million Times
by SignorinaSickfic
Summary: Directly after the events of the sixth book, Remus Lupin finds himself sick. When a trip to Tonks' house goes wrong, Remus must come face to face with his feelings as Tonks cares for him in his ill state.


**Author's notes:**

**Wow, my first time ever publishing anything... I can't believe it! Please be kind, but constructive criticism is welcome and encouraged, as well as reactions.**

**This was put together over several months. There's nothing you really need to know before the story begins, except that the story takes place almost immediately after the events of book six.**

**Spoilers: Mostly Half Blood Prince**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. **

**And without further ado, may I present "A Million Times!"**

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><p>"So we have to decide which is better," Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody growled, his magical eye rolling around in its socket. "Is it better to risk the Death Eaters knowing the date Potter will be moved or waiting for You-Know-Who to snatch him up the second he turns seventeen and the charm breaks?" The entire Order of the Phoenix was gathered at the Burrow after the death of Dumbledore and finding that Snape had betrayed them all. Moody's suggestion elicited heated debate from all sides, slowly bordering on an argument. It seemed that nobody could decide on a plan, not with the death of a leader and a grave betrayal and a war on the doorstep.<p>

Nymphadora Tonks was barely listening. She was sitting at the crowded table staring at her hands. She swore she could still feel the warmth on them from when Remus Lupin had held her hand at the funeral, but it didn't matter anymore. They had not spoken since. Tonks's hair might have been blonde, but she was feeling quite blue. How could she have let it happen? How could she have been so stupid to have believed for even one second that it meant anything, that it made an iota of a difference? She could hear the cacophony of voices around her, one of them belonging to the man she loved so much, but she couldn't bring herself to raise her head and look at him.

She looked pale and terribly tired. She was cold and numb despite the warmth in the room. She wanted to throw up. She couldn't stay here much longer without crying or vomiting or screaming. It was torture to know he was sitting just a few feet away and he wouldn't meet her gaze. He still believed she cared about him being a werewolf. It didn't matter. He wasn't bad. She knew he would never hurt her.

"What say you, Tonks?" Remus asked politely, jerking her from her reverie. She hadn't been paying enough attention, and at this point, hearing his voice coupled with her emotional agony was too much for her to bear. She looked tentatively up at the Order who stared back at her silently, expectantly.

"Ah," she said. She could feel herself on the verge of tears. She worked to control her voice. "Well… I think… I believe we… I'm sorry." She stood up, knocking the chair backwards in her haste. "I can't do this."

"Are you feeling all right, Nymphadora?" Molly Weasley asked anxiously. Tonks saw her way out. She barely even registered that Molly had used the name she hated.

"Actually, I'm not feeling well at all, Molly," she replied. "I think I need to go home and sleep it off."

"Why, Tonks, you can take a bed upstairs…," but Tonks cut her off with a meaningful look.

"Thank you very much, Molly, but I'll pass," she murmured, begging Molly not to protest with her eyes.

"All right, be safe then," Molly conceded softly, a flicker of understanding evident in her eyes. "Feel better, dear." The rest of the Order murmured in agreement, the exception being Remus, who had gone rather pale and was refusing to meet anyone's eye.

"Thanks," Tonks said softly, gratefully. "Send a Patronus along when you've made a decision then. Bye everyone." And with that, she had run from the house, the tears she couldn't stop streaming from her eyes, dove out of the protective barriers, and Disapparated out of sight into the gathering twilight. As soon as she was gone, everyone rounded on Remus. He would have found it quite comical, if they didn't look so bloody frightening.

"What the bloody hell is the matter, Remus?" Molly demanded.

"I beg your pardon, Molly?" Remus asked, looking at her blankly, clearly taken aback.

"Oh, you know very well what I'm talking about, Remus!" Molly cried. "Why is Nymphadora running out of here early and not contributing to meetings? Very uncharacteristic of her." Remus continued staring blankly at Molly.

"She wasn't feeling well is all," Remus tried.

"Oh, come off it," Molly roared. "We all know she's not ill, she's lovesick!"

"What-" Remus tried again.

"This is getting ridiculous, Remus," Arthur Weasley said calmly.

"Affirmative," Kingsley threw in. "Tonks is a great girl. Why don't you go after her?" Remus couldn't even believe what he was hearing. Since when had the Order become active in his social life?

"Excuse me," Remus said tartly, "but I really don't think this is the time-" he was cut off by Moody.

"It very well is the bleeding time, Remus," he snarled. Remus shrunk back, alarmed. "Now, I'll tell you straightaway, Nymphadora doesn't deserve to have her heart ripped out, and she bloody well doesn't deserve to have it ripped out repeatedly by you. You're destroying each other and the Order, and I won't sit here and stand for it." Remus was incredulous, speechless.

"I've already said this," he said, abandoning all pretenses. "I don't deserve her. She's beautiful, talented, young. What's she going to do with the likes of me?"

"Seems as though she has a few things in mind already, if you know what I mean," Bill quipped wryly, sipping at his butterbeer.

"William!" Scolded Mrs. Weasly, scandalized and flushing.

"No, it's quite all right, Molly," Remus said dryly. "Bill, as you may have noticed, I have nothing to offer her. I have no money, no chance of getting a job, I'm nearly twice her age, and I'm too dangerous."

"Mate, she wants you," Sturgis Podmore jumped in and said simply. "She obviously doesn't care that you're penniless, certainly has no complaints on the age subject, and – if you haven't noticed – seems to enjoy a bit of risk and adventure. Why not give it a try?"

"Really, you're tearing each other apart, and on the brink of war, we really can't risk it, can we?" Elphias Doge wheezed softly.

"Ter be 'onest, Remus," Hagrid chimed in, "I fin' it a bi' ridiculous tha' yeh know she loves yeh and yet yeh're not givin' in, no' an inch."

Remus saw there was no out on this one. He felt for Tonks in a way he'd never felt for anyone in his life, cared about her with a care he'd never had the pleasure of lavishing upon someone until this point, and yet, he didn't want to see her hurt or disappointed. He wanted to voice this to the Order members, but it seemed ridiculous to try and put it into words. It was obscenely complicated, and he couldn't make it sound right. So instead, he held his tongue and slowly nodded.

"But how do I know she really cares for me in that way?" He asked, using his last feeble attempt at an argument. Consequently, the rest of the members of the Order laughed heartily at this.

"_Really_, Remus?" Bill guffawed loudly. "Honestly, you're not_ that_ dense! Surely you've seen the way she looks at you? The way she gets tongue-tied and clumsy around you? And was her running out today not proof enough?" Remus swallowed hard.

"I guess I have to go then, too," he whispered, almost inaudibly. Most of the members of the Order cracked grins.

"Let's just cut this one short, shall we?" Kingsley suggested.

"I second that!" Bill exclaimed. The meeting was quickly dissolved after that. Order members began talking and visiting. Remus hung on the outskirts of the harried talking feeling awkward and nervous. Bill saw and came over. He smiled at Remus, who was looking rather green, and murmured, "Go get her, tiger," to which Remus blushed and made his way out of the Burrow, passing the magical barriers and Disapparating to Hogsmede, the first place he could think of.

He had to find a place to sit down, to settle his thoughts. He went into the Hog's Head, where, though drafty and a bit shady, at least it was quiet and he could be alone with his thoughts. What was so hard about allowing himself to fall in love with her? They both wanted each other in the same way, and yet, he couldn't manage to let himself be happy and be with her.

_She can do better_, he tried to tell himself as he ordered a firewhiskey. His head had begun to pound mercilessly, his throat was raw, and, he felt exceedingly tired and achy. He hoped the drink would help. _Besides, what can I offer her anyway?_ The tiny voice in the back of his mind that seldom spoke falsehoods whispered, _She wants you_.

Remus downed his drink quickly, making his resolve. He couldn't bear to see her hurt. Watching her run out today because of him made his stomach clench painfully. He never wanted to hurt her again, he swore he wouldn't. He… he… he had a hard time making himself think the words. He loved her too much. He took in a shuddering breath, a shiver running down his spine. He allowed his eyes to close as he concentrated on feeling human. He concentrated especially hard on her. He pictured her angelic face. Another shudder wracked his frame, and he slowly relaxed. He loved her. He was in love with her. He let himself feel it, really feel it, for the first time ever.

He stood up abruptly. He knew what must be done. He loved her. The feeling continued to wash over him and cause his stomach muscles to contract painfully and a lump to rise up in his throat. He had to do it. He had to go confess his undying love for her. He had to apologize for how he'd treated her, to beg for forgiveness. He had to promise her he'd never hurt her again. He had to. He wanted to. Ignoring the pouring rain that had started outside, he paid the bill and walked determinedly all the way to her flat fighting the butterflies in his stomach, the heated blush on his cheeks, the chill of anxiety, and the ever-present pounding in his head.

The rain got worse as he went on. He wasn't sure exactly where the girl's flat was, but he knew the general idea. It was very dark and witches and wizards were retiring to their houses hastily. Remus pulled his cloak tighter about himself and kept walking. Finally, he made it. He knocked on the door apprehensively. He was sweating profusely despite the chill that had settled in his bones, and he was trembling with what he perceived to be nerves. He was soaking wet and dripping. The pounding in his head had lessened to a dull throb behind his right eye, lingering on the verge of becoming a full-fledged migraine at any moment. The swarm of butterflies in his stomach was nearly crippling. His heart rate sped up when he heard the sound of light footsteps from inside, followed by a crash and a string of curses. He smiled slightly in spite of himself. She must've tripped over something.

And suddenly, there she was, standing in the doorframe, her now dark, mousy hair aglow from the lights in the flat behind her. She was dressed the same as she had been at the Order meeting, but she'd taken off her boots and stood in purple-and-gray-striped stockings. She looked as though she had been crying. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and her mouth rounded into an almost comical O. A wave of vertigo washed over Remus and he felt suddenly dizzy.

"Remus?" She asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?" He looked up at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but that was as far as he got, because suddenly, his eyes rolled back into his head and Remus's world went cold and dark, like a dementor attack on steroids. He collapsed hard on the front stoop right at Tonks's feet. She wasn't expecting it. Had she been more dexterous and not so taken aback, she might have caught him before his head made contact with the cement. Tonks screamed.

The next thing Remus knew, he was lying comfortably in his own warm bed in his room. His head was aching. Everything was a bit fuzzy and muffled. There was something cold and wet on his forehead that felt wonderful. He blinked to try and clear the fuzziness and confusion and haziness in his head. What had happened? He could barely make out the shape of someone standing over him, looking into his eyes, holding a goblet to his lips that he barely felt. Then, it occurred to him. Tonks! Where was she? He had been at her flat. Was the figure standing over him…? No. That would've been too good to be true. But could it be…?

Thinking hurt his aching head. He swallowed and felt a measure of something warm trickle down his raw throat. He winced at how sore it was. What was going on? How had he gotten there, and who was that with him? He sniffled. The figure standing over him gently brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Please wake up, Remus," the figure whispered, and her voice was the soft, gentle, beautiful voice he knew well, the voice of his angel. He could tell she was tearful and worried. He tried to force his eyes to open for her; he tried to show her he was okay, but he couldn't. Bugger! He had promised himself he'd never hurt her again, and here he was, doing it yet _again_. He tried to form words to reassure her. Instead, he let out a low moan.

"Remus?" She asked softly, and the hope in her voice was unmistakable. He slowly blinked his eyes fully open. His eyelids were heavy and felt leaden, but it was completely worth it, because he was now staring up into the eyes of his beautiful Tonks. She instantly relaxed and let out a relieved sigh.

"Remus," she sighed. "Oh, thank Merlin! Are you all right?" Remus still had yet to process what exactly was going on. Tonks. She was there, in his flat, in his bedroom. With him.

"T-Tonks?" He asked weakly, and realized his voice was hoarse and raspy. She gently touched his cheek. "S'that… s'that you?" He squinted up at her. She crouched still closer to him and again brushed the hair out of his eyes.

"Yes, it's me, love," she murmured. "You gave me such a fright, Remus! Whatever were you doing at my house, in the middle of the bloody night, in the pouring rain?" Remus leaned over and coughed harshly into the crook of his arm, a bark-like, moist sound that rattled in his chest.

"I had to come see you," he rasped hoarsely. "I wanted to talk to you. What happened?" Tonks blushed.

"You were dripping water when you showed up, and I asked you why you were there, and you passed out cold," she explained.

"Oh," he said weakly. So much for that.

"You're sick, Remus," she said gently. "And being out in the rain – yes, I figured out you walked all the way to my house, and for the life of me I can't figure out why – probably didn't help. What were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," he answered softly, realizing that he felt much drier. She hadn't…. He looked down at himself, and sure enough, he was in his gray thermal pajamas, his robes and cloak nowhere in sight. He looked back at Tonks, who suddenly understood and immediately blushed.

"Y-You were soaked through when you showed up," she stammered sheepishly, looking away from him. "It was just going to make you worse. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"Thank you," he said softly, staring up into her face. She looked at him and blinked in surprise.

"Y-You're welcome," she stuttered. Suddenly, his breath hitched and he looked away from her and sneezed roughly four times into the crook of his elbow. The sneezes left him looking dazed and weary. She eased him back gently onto the pillow. She handed him a handkerchief and picked up a thermometer from his bedside table.

"Let me take your temperature," she said kindheartedly. Remus, too weak to protest this, opened his mouth reluctantly.

"I'm fine," he managed to insist before Tonks pushed the cool metal tube under his tongue and very gently pinched his lips shut around it to keep him from speaking and ruining the reading. She smiled slightly at his startled expression.

"Shush," she commanded. "Obviously, you're not."

Remus fought the urge to cough, his lips trembling under her hand. His breathing was becoming heavy. Tonks noticed. She took the cold thing from his forehead – which he found out was a wet washcloth – and used it to tenderly wipe his brow and the rest of his face.

"Just a few more seconds," she promised, skimming the sweat off his forehead. He was so pale, she noticed. Suddenly, the thermometer beeped. She released his lips and gently slid the tube out from between them. As soon as her hand was clear, Remus erupted in a fit of coughing that left him breathless and panting. Tonks softly and idly patted his shoulder as she read the small screen of the thermometer. It read 104.6 degrees.

"You're running a high fever," she told him, running her fingers absently through his prematurely thinning hair. He swallowed hard again, and his throat burned. A shiver ran through his body, causing him to convulse against her.

"I'm going to bring you some tea, and some potions to try and help you feel better, alright?" She asked, wanting to do more than that, but not sure how. Remus nodded slowly.

"That would be lovely," he murmured exhaustedly.

"You just lie there and rest, okay?" She said. "Sleep. I'll be back in a bit."

"Okay," he said, closing his weary eyes. Tonks smiled and leaned down and kissed his hot forehead, replacing the cold cloth on it right after.

"Sleep well, Remus," she said softly. She extinguished the bedside candle, drew the curtains closed, put out the lights, and went downstairs to make the tea and fetch the potions.

Tonks brought a cup of tea and a vial of a fever reducer potion up to Remus's room, being sure not to trip over any rugs or stairs so she didn't spill. The room was dark and quiet. She felt foolish standing in the doorway, watching him sleep, however fitfully. His face twitched minutely and his muscles made involuntary jerking motions. His chest was heaving, as she could see. He was probably in the throes of a nightmare. He whimpered and yelped softly in his feverish haze, muttering about dementors and full moons and Fenrir Greyback and werewolves. He began softly calling for her, for James and Sirius, for his mother, and again for her.

Biting her lip and mustering all the courage that had made her an Auror, she stepped into the dimly lit room and lit the candle by his bedside with a flick of her wand. She set the cup on his bedside table and crouched down by his bed. She took her hand and gingerly stroked the sweaty bangs from his forehead. She pressed her lips gently in the general area of his ear and whispered gingerly,

"Remus?" The only result she got was he began to jerk harder. She tried again, louder this time. "Remus? You okay?" He barely stirred. Finally, she cleared her throat and said in a normal, ringing voice, "Remus?" He jolted awake with a yelp, coughed harshly into his elbow, and looked over at her with bleary, watery eyes.

"Oh, hello, Tonks," he said drowsily. She smiled sympathetically at him.

"Nightmare?" She asked bluntly. He looked sheepish but nodded.

"Please tell me I don't talk in my sleep," he begged. She couldn't lie to him.

"Unfortunately, yes, you do," she smiled lovingly. He flushed three shades of red at her words. Tonks judiciously decided to change the subject. "I brought you some tea," she said gently.

"Thanks," he said, still blushing and stifling a yawn.

"You should drink some of it," she advised softly. "There's Pepper Up in there."

"Okay," he answered tranquilly. He tried to sit up, but found he was too weak. Tonks noticed this and helped him sit up, supporting him with her arm, and holding the cup to his lips, gently tilted. He swallowed it down. When he had finished, she set the empty cup on the bedside table. She uncorked the vial of fever reducer potion and held it up to his lips.

"Bottoms up," she teased, and he swallowed it. She set the empty vial next to the cup and eased him back down onto his pillow. He sighed and rolled to the side.

"Thanks, Dora," he murmured. Tonks's breath caught.

"'Dora?'" She asked, awestruck. "You've never called me 'Dora' before." Remus blushed visibly and sunk lower into the blankets.

"I-I'm s-sorry," he stammered ineloquently, mentally kicking himself. Tonks laughed.

"No, Remus, you mistook my meaning," she assured him. "I absolutely love the fact that you called me that!" He swallowed hard and looked uncomfortable. She decided judiciously to drop the subject.

"So," she said awkwardly. "Is there anything else I can get you?" Remus offered a small smile and shook his head.

"Thank you," he said softly. Tonks looked down at him.

"You're welcome," she replied. "I suppose you probably need to get some rest. You must be feeling awful."

"Yes," he croaked shortly, his face contorting slightly in pain. He hoped it wasn't evident, but his body was aching and he had a knot in his stomach at the sight of her. Apparently, though, Tonks saw, because she knelt down by his bed and gently placed her hand on his feverish forehead. She very tenderly brushed the sweaty bangs from his eyes in soft, gentle, slow, repetitive strokes. The knot in Remus's stomach tightened at her electric touch. He must have started hyperventilating, but he couldn't tell. The only indication was Tonks's quiet voice soothing him.

"Shh," she said calmly, noticing he was starting to panic, breathing heavily and coughing. She touched his cheek ever so softly. The result was like a thousand explosions within Remus's heart. He worried she was going to give him a heart attack with her love. "I'm here, Rem. It's okay." To tell the truth, she'd been toying with that nickname for a long time, and now it just sprang out of her. She figured it was okay, since he had just called her Dora.

And then it happened. Remus wasn't sure how. All he knew was, one minute, the knot in his stomach was tightening painfully and he was lying there with her soft hands on him, and the next, everything was dark and fuzzy. There was an awful smell, a small shriek, and the feeling that a knife was being shoved up his throat.

What Remus felt, Tonks saw clearly. One minute, all had been fine. She had been caressing the man she loved trying to calm him, and the next he had vomited all over himself and the blankets. She withdrew her hand in surprise, then instantly felt sorry about it. His eyes had rolled back into his head. He was gasping and letting out strangled screams of pain. And then, he was suddenly and unexpectedly limp. He passed out cold again.

Tonks reached for the thermometer and pushed it back under his tongue. She waited impatiently. When it beeped, she pulled it out. His temperature had risen to 105.4 degrees. He must have been completely exhausted. His breathing was slow and irregular. Tonks waved her wand and cleaned up the mess all over the sheets, making them once again spotless. She also cleaned Remus up as best as she could. She replaced the cool cloth against his burning hot skin. Slowly, he came around.

"T-Tonks?" That was the first thing out of his mouth. Tonks could've cried. He shivered hard. "I'm so sorry, I'm-," but she quickly stopped him.

"Shh," she soothed, pulling the covers back up to his chin, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and caressing his warm face. "It's okay, sweetheart. Why don't you try and go back to sleep?" He nodded slowly and coughed into his shoulder. "Do you want me to stay here?" She asked lovingly.

"Please?" He inquired weakly.

"Of course," she replied, and he scooted over toward the wall to make room for her. She took off her shoes and settled down next to him, propped up against the headboard with his head lying next to her hip. She ran her fingers through his hair and watched as his body slackened, his breathing evened out, and he fell fast asleep, curled around her, his head leaning on her leg.

It was dark. Early. Tonks blinked around blearily, looking for what woke her up. She found herself curled up in an unfamiliar bed next to the man she loved so much and wanted to scream in excitement. She remembered, though, why, and looked at the clock. The time was 2:08 am, much too early for her to awaken on her own. That's when she realized it. It must have been Remus's dull moans and whimpering and outcries that had caused her premature arising. She slid off the bed and stretched. She was sticky where he had sweated on her, but she didn't mind. She used her wand to transfigure her clothes into comfortable pajamas. Suddenly, Remus let out a heart wrenching scream. It sounded like he was being tortured under the Cruciatus curse in his sleep. Tonks looked concerned.

"Dora!" He yelled. "Dora, please!" Another scream ripped through the still and silence of the darkness. "Not her! Please! I'll do anything!" He moaned, and another scream pierced the night. Tonks looked horrified. Whatever he was dreaming of, it must have been torturing him. Remus was out-and-out sobbing now, still screaming in unspeakable pain.

"Please! Take me instead! She had nothing to do with it!" Tonks couldn't help crying herself a little. "Sirius! No! Please, leave them alone!" Tonks could think of nothing else. As he thrashed about, she caught one of his arms and pulled him up into her. He was surprisingly light. She held him close, sitting back down on the bed. She hugged him tightly. He was still asleep, still screaming. The moisture in his eyes was leaking onto her, but it didn't matter. She'd never seen him like this before, so vulnerable. She let him feel this torture only a second longer.

"Remus," she said. "Remus!" His screams ceased, the sound of her voice awakening him. He looked around frantically, as though the nightmare had followed him here, and, when he found nothing but his bedroom and the woman he loved so dearly, he burst out in tears she'd never dreamed could come out of such a tough person. He seemed not to care that he was shivering convulsively, nor that he was being held much like a child in the arms of the only woman he'd ever truly loved. She was safe. It hadn't been real. He buried his face in her shoulder and let himself sob.

Tonks was heartbroken at the sound. A few tears leaked from her own eyes as she held him still tighter. He was taking cold, shuddering breaths against her shoulder, his sobs causing his weak frame to shake harder. Tonks stroked his hair comfortingly.

"Shh," she whispered in his ear. "It's okay. You're okay, Remus. I'm right here." He started to get a grip. "What's happened?"

"I thought I'd lost you!" He sobbed. "Greyback had you… you and your cousin… and he was biting you, k-k-killing you…." He couldn't continue, he was so overcome with emotion.

"Shh," she said again, more tears leaking from her own eyes and landing in his hair. She held his head close to her chest. "You won't lose me. It's okay. Just relax. I'm right here."

Soon, and as quickly as they had begun, his sobs turned into soft hiccups and his tears finally stopped. He rested his feverish head against her shoulder and tried to control his breathing, taking deep, steadying breaths. Tonks gently and tenderly rubbed his back in small circles. He swallowed and winced, reluctantly pulling away. He looked into her face.

"Thanks," he murmured, looking a bit embarrassed. Tonks sat there only a second longer before throwing herself into his arms. They hugged tightly for some time. Neither one would admit it, but they both never wanted this embrace to end. Finally, Tonks pulled back. Wiping her eyes, she murmured something indistinct about Remus needing to get some rest. Handing him her own personal handkerchief, she helped him back down and pulled the covers up. He blew his nose softly. Tonks took the handkerchief from him and performed a cleaning charm on it, and folded it up next to the bed for later use. She didn't want to say anything aloud, but she was happy. He'd just had a torturous nightmare about losing her. This was a good sign as to the direction of their relationship.

Suddenly, he sat bolt upright and ran to the bathroom. Tonks, once again startled, followed hastily behind, carrying the washcloth with her. He dropped to his knees and was violently sick for the second time that night. He was shaking so hard he nearly fell. The back of his nightshirt was soaked through with sweat. He panted hard over the toilet bowl and then slumped back onto the nearest solid object, which just so happened to be Tonks's chest. She wet the washcloth with cold water, put a cooling charm on it, and laid it against his feverish forehead. His chest heaved. Tonks was very quiet throughout, hoping he didn't get too embarrassed to lie against her. She loved how he felt in her arms. He put a hand to his eyes.

"Dizzy?" She asked gently, wiping the sweat off his face.

"Yes," he answered weakly.

He forced himself up once the dizziness had passed and washed up. He moved to walk back to bed and stumbled in an act of clumsiness that rivaled even Tonks's best trip. He reached out blindly and found Tonks's arm there waiting for him. He steadied himself, and she led him back to bed. He started coughing and wheezing just from the short trip from the bathroom to bed. Tonks bit her lip. He must have been really sick.

Once he was again lying comfortably in bed, Tonks lit the bedside candle and began softly combing the bangs back off his sticky forehead. She got him to take another fever reducer and a sleeping potion. He fell asleep almost instantly, exhausted from the night's adventures. She then took the washcloth and began to gently bathe his face, neck, and chest with it. She decided to make a run to the Muggle drug store the next morning to buy some supplies since wizard remedies clearly weren't doing much good; he was, if anything, hotter than before, and the Pepper Up had barely done a thing. She watched as he unconsciously tried to lean into her hand at the cool touch. Poor Remus, she thought softly, laying the cloth to rest on his forehead, climbing into bed next to him, and promptly falling asleep.

The next morning, Tonks was awakened by the sound of retching coming from the direction of the bathroom. She followed the sound and found Remus again hunched over the toilet, vomiting roughly. She tisked softly and summoned the cloth from the other room. Stumbling over the threshold, she rewet the cloth manually in the sink and draped it over the back of his neck.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" She inquired, gently rubbing his back in small circles. She noticed he shook his head, still puking. Finally, he forced himself into a standing position. His legs wobbled slightly and his top half swayed a little, like a tree in the wind. He was still shaking like a leaf. Tonks took hold of his arm and tried to steady him. He washed up and rinsed his mouth out, flushing the contents of the toilet away with a trembling hand. His head was aching and he was freezing. His throat was still raw and inflamed, and his chest was sore as though he'd cracked a rib. His sleep had been anything but restful. He kept seeing shadows in his nightmares, and the sleeping potion that had promised to give him a full night's rest had worn off in about an hour. He was awake the rest of the night, coughing and wheezing and sneezing and sniffling, tossing and turning. He had tried really hard not to wake Tonks, who had finally fallen asleep herself, but she had awakened with him and tried to comfort and aid him as best she could in her tired state. They had finally both fell asleep from sheer exhaustion at about five in the morning.

Remus looked, if anything, worse than he felt – which was some feat since he felt like he'd been trampled by a herd of centaurs and chewed up and spat out by a Norwegian Ridgeback. His eyes were shadowed in dark purple, and they were bloodshot. His hair was messy and unkempt, darkened by sweat. His nose was tinged bright red, and the skin underneath was irritated, chapped, and sore. To boot, he really couldn't breathe through his nose. He looked weak and frail and exhausted.

Tonks made sure he got back to bed and was covered and at least somewhat comfortable before she forced the thermometer back into his mouth. He didn't protest. The readout this time was 104.2, a little lower, but not by much. Tonks bit the tender flesh of her lip and looked worriedly at her friend. She put another cooling charm on the washcloth and laid it on his head.

"I'm going to make a run to the Muggle drug store for some supplies," she told him softly. "It seems the wizard remedies aren't keeping. I'll be back in a few minutes, alright?"

"Okay," Remus replied languidly. She leaned down and gently kissed the tip of his nose. It seemed that after last night, they had unofficially started dating. Maybe it was just in Tonks's mind, but at least it was something. She pulled her travelling cloak around her and Apparated to the drug store.

Once there, Tonks was nearly overwhelmed with the place. She had no idea how to navigate the store to find what she needed. She found herself in the pet area, completely turned around, so she sought out an attendant on duty. She saw one in the next aisle, a young teenage girl who looked thoroughly bored restocking shelves.

"Excuse me?" Tonks asked softly. The girl turned to look at her. Her face instantly brightened. She must've been looking for something more interesting to do than to be stacking cans of cat food.

"Yes?" She asked, completely abandoning the cardboard boxes next to her.

"I have – ah – someone in bed ill and was wondering what to get for him?" She didn't know what else to call Remus, so "someone" would have to do. The girl smiled.

"I would suggest the pharmacy," she replied. "They'll know exactly what to do."

"Where is that?" Tonks asked, feeling foolish. The girl simply grinned kindly.

"It's four aisles over and one aisle up, on the side wall," she answered, pointing to illustrate. "There's a sign that says 'Pharmacy.' If you see shampoo and soap, you've gone too far."

"Thanks," Tonks said earnestly.

"Have a nice day," the girl replied, reluctantly turning back to her cat food. Tonks made her way quickly to the pharmacy. Once there, she saw a tall man in a white lab coat standing behind the counter. She decided that he probably knew what he was doing and walked up to the counter.

"Hello," the man greeted her. He had a deep voice that reminded her of Kingsley. She smiled in spite of herself.

"Hello there," she replied politely, then restated her problem to the man.

"Well, what does he have?" He asked conversationally.

"Um, I don't actually know," she said sheepishly.

"Okay," the man said. "That's okay. What are some of his symptoms?"

"Um, he's got a high fever," Tonks said, racking her brain to remember everything. "He's been vomiting and coughing and sneezing. He seems exceptionally cold all the time, he's weak and exhausted and seems in pain, he's passed out twice, and he's wheezing…." She trailed off, not sure where to go from there. The man took over.

"It sounds like a really bad flu or respiratory infection," he said. "There's really no cure. I would suggest Tylenol for aches and pains and also to reduce the fever, and either NyQuil or Theraflu – or Robitussin – for the cough and, well, everything else. I'd also suggest some menthol rub if he's not asthmatic and that he keep dry as much as possible."

"Where can I find these things?" She inquired. Now they were cooking with gas. The man smiled and stepped out from behind the counter.

"Follow me," he instructed, and led her to the different aisles with everything she'd need. She thanked him profusely and gathered up the medicines she needed, Tylenol and NyQuil, along with that menthol thingie he had mentioned. She also bought a few cans of soup, a box of Kleenex, a bag of lozenges, and a few bags of tea. She brought her purchases to the counter, fished out the Muggle money she needed from the emergency pouch in her bag, and paid. She then walked out and, once a safe distance away from any Muggles, Disapparated back to Remus's flat.

The first thing she heard when she walked in was the sounds of wet coughing. She yanked off her travelling cloak and rushed to the bedroom, tripping over a chair and the top step as she went.

"Remus?" She asked breathlessly. He was lying in bed, his eyes clenched shut in pain as he coughed and irritated his headache, burning throat, queasy stomach, and aching rib. Tonks ran back downstairs and emerged with a half a glass of water (the other half was spilled in her rush). She knelt by the bed and held the glass to his lips. Icy liquid sluiced down Remus's throat and helped to soothe a bit of the soreness for a bit. It also felt good on his dry lips. Finally, he stopped coughing and sighed in relief.

"Thank you, Tonks," he whispered.

"You're welcome," she said, blushing again for no reason. "I brought some stuff. How were you while I was gone?"

"The same," he rasped. He caught two sneezes in his cupped hands and groaned.

"I've got you some medicine," she said. She pulled out the box of Kleenex and ripped the perforated top off. She pulled one out and handed it to Remus, who took it gratefully and blew his dripping nose. She then pulled out the Tylenol, uncapped the bottle, and handed him two. She helped him sit up and take the pills with water. She then measured a dose of NyQuil into the cute little cup it came with and gave it to him. He drank the liquid and shuddered.

"I assume that stuff's not much better than Wolfsbane," she said.

"No," he answered, taking a small sip of the water. "Not really." She smiled, then frowned.

"The man said you had a flu or respiratory infection," she said nervously. "You look unwell. And," she laid her hand against his forehead. It was still hot. "You still feel feverish." He slumped back down onto the pillow. This illness was really sapping his strength.

"I don't feel well," he murmured miserably. Tonks looked at him sympathetically.

"Oh, love, I know," she said lovingly. He was white as the sheet he lay upon. "Close your eyes," Tonks soothed, smoothing his brow with gentle fingers. "Sleep. I'm right here, and I'm not leaving." This seemed to comfort Remus, whose body instantly relaxed at her touch. Oh, sure, it still shocked him as though electric, but it was soothing and comforting, and right then, he could ignore the tingle he got whenever she had her hands upon him, as exhausted as he was.

Suddenly, he jolted. She had begun rubbing his back gently. He wasn't expecting the touch, not like this, not from her. She had done it on and off last night when he was in his nightmare hell or when he was vomiting, but not while he was in his bed so intimately with her.

"Relax," she said, and he could hear her grin through her words. She started to hum softly, keeping time with her rubbing in small, soothing circles. She really had a way with comforting, Tonks did. Remus let the sound of her voice and the gentle touches from her hands ease him into a fitful sleep. Tonks didn't change her pattern, finding routine to be the most soothing for him. She waited until he was well under before reluctantly pulling her hand away and fishing through the plastic bag for the menthol rub she'd bought. She uncapped the jar and looked at the jelly-like substance. She squinted to read the directions on the packaging. She used her fingers to scoop out a small blob of the stuff. She pulled the back of Remus's pajama top up, causing him to shiver violently, and gently rubbed it in. She repeated this on his chest and neck and on the skin under his red nose. She noticed he began to breathe better, which was a relief to the both of them.

Suddenly, her stomach growled angrily. She realized she hadn't eaten anything since last night after the meeting, and she crept downstairs as gracefully as she could manage to make herself – and Remus, if he'd eat it – something for lunch. She figured soup would be the best thing for the both of them, so she opened a can and cooked it. She was never really that good a cook, but she wasn't terrible, and the soup was decent. Once it had boiled, she ladled out two steaming bowlfuls. She ate hers in Remus's tiny kitchen, looking around and memorizing it. She wondered why Remus had gone to her house and made himself ill, what he wanted to talk to her about. It had been nagging at her for a while. She made the resolve to figure it out as soon as he was well.

When she'd finished, she put her bowl into the sink and used magic to wash it. She then walked back to the bedroom with his bowl, steam curling and wafting from the top of it. She set it down on the bedside table, which was becoming increasingly crowded, and went back to get him a glass of fresh water.

She noticed he was once again having a nightmare, muttering incoherently, his head moving back and forth on the pillow fretfully. His thin frame trembled from underneath the blankets. He was coughing softly, the force jarring his weak body forward. Tonks set the glass down and went over to kneel by the side of the bed. She soothingly stroked the bangs out of his eyes.

"Rem?" She asked softly. He blinked awake blearily. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but all that came out was a volley of violent coughs that caused his weakened body to buck fiercely. Tonks sat down next to him and pulled him close to her to keep him steady, knowing he was probably in a lot of pain and that bucking around would only make it worse. He unconsciously rested his head against her shoulder as she tried to absorb the force of the tremors with her body. She again elected to rub his back as he coughed wetly and roughly. Finally, his spasms ebbed, and he pulled away slightly to catch a glimpse of her face.

"I'm sorry," he said instantly, as if realizing for the first time where he was. "This is all a bit disgusting." He tried to jerk away, clearly embarrassed, but Tonks held fast.

"It's okay, sweetheart," she said, meaning it. "I don't mind." She smiled. "You know, you're pretty cute like this," she observed, gently kissing the tip of his nose. He blushed bright red.

Remus apprehensively laid his head back on her shoulder. It shouldn't have felt so bloody good to be in her soft, warm, loving arms, but it did. He didn't like a big fuss made over him, but she was making him feel so much better despite how hard this flu had hit.

Tonks decided the soup could wait. She put a warming charm on it and helped ease him back down and let his head rest on her shoulder. He sniffled congestedly. Tonks picked a tissue from the box and held it over his nose.

"Blow, love," she instructed. "You'll feel better, I promise." He did so, looking entirely uncomfortable. The sound was wet and gurgling, but it was clear his sinuses were blocked completely. Tonks gently dabbed the small drips from the tip of his nose and the tender skin underneath. He sneezed from everything loosening as he'd tried to blow and then started to cough roughly again. Tonks touched her hand to his forehead and jumped.

"Merlin's beard!" She exclaimed, reaching for the thermometer. Remus sniffled liquidly, his bangs falling into his eyes. "You're fever's gotten worse!" He just moaned softly in response. She gently eased the tube under his tongue. He didn't move from his perch on her shoulder. She combed his hair back with her fingers until the thermometer beeped. His temperature was again at 105 degrees. Tonks realized they weren't getting anywhere. He was getting worse due to lack of sleep.

"I think a dreamless sleep potion and some more of that Muggle medicine should help a bit," she said, reluctantly getting up and going to get some. Remus took all the potions and medicines she handed him without complaint and then they resumed their positions, Remus's head resting on Tonks's chest. It was the closest and most intimate they'd gotten in… well, ever. Tonks could barely hide her excitement. She suddenly let out a snort of laughter that caused Remus to look up at her in confusion.

"What?" He asked self-consciously. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she promised, lowering his head back down with a reassuring hand. "It's just that this is the most we've touched since… well, since ever. I'm in your bed. Not quite the way I imagined it, but it's good all the same." Remus couldn't help but chuckle, despite the protest from every muscle in his body. Good old Tonks, always saying exactly what she thought. He was blushing again, she saw, though she was sure she was too.

"Rest," she said tenderly, starting to gently massage the back of his neck. "I'm right here." His eyes sweetly closed, and in seconds he was asleep in what Tonks hoped to be a healing sleep.

When he awakened a few hours later, he had to run to the bathroom to be sick again. Tonks followed. This time, his stomach had nothing to give back, so he dry heaved for a long time until eventually heaving up stomach bile. Tonks looked horrified; he looked like he was in a lot of pain. His eyes watered, and he clutched his chest as he began to cough and cough and _cough_. Tonks was there with a glass of water and a warm embrace, like a shock absorber.

Once back in bed, Tonks propped up his pillow. Although all he really wanted to do was curl up with her and sleep it off in the safety and comfort of her arms, Tonks realized that he needed to eat _something_. She pulled a chair by the bedside and sat down upon it. She then picked up the bowl of soup, warm from the heating charm she'd placed on it, and spooned a bit of it out. She held the spoon to Remus's lips. The steam wreaked havoc on his abused nose, but it seemed to be opening his sinuses minutely. He shook his head fervently.

"Not hungry," he mumbled, opening his mouth as little as possible to keep her from forcing the issue. "And I'm not incapable of feeding myself."

"You need to eat something to keep up your strength," Tonks persisted. "And you'd be too weak to feed yourself, and you know it."

"This is highly unnecessary," he said, but was silenced as Tonks gently popped the spoon into his mouth.

"Oh, shut up, Remus," she said, feigning exasperation. "Eat." Remus swallowed and grudgingly allowed her to feed him a few more bites before he really could not stomach any more. Tonks, satisfied, set the bowl back down and helped Remus back down. He snuggled down deeply into what resembled a nest of blankets. His eyelids felt heavy, and his body was completely sore. He was totally spent, and all he'd done was sit up and eat something. He knew this wasn't a good sign, but he didn't want to worry Tonks, so he just decided to let it go and try and sleep it off.

He had shut his eyes, and he felt someone gently caress his feverish face. Tonks. She was the only person he wanted with him right then. He never wanted anyone to make a fuss over him, and Tonks knew the perfect balance between care and space. He knew he should reassure her, because she was no doubt worried, but he was feeling too awful. He knew he should tell her she didn't have to be here, but deep down, he wanted her there.

She was quiet and calm. She continued to caress his face, and he relaxed immensely under her tender touch. Her hands alone upon him could have this effect. She softly kissed his feverish forehead, hoping beyond hope that, once he was well, they could try again at a relationship.

He was shivering. Tonks noticed and found him an extra quilt. She draped it over his thin, quaking frame. Remus tried to drift back off to sleep, but just then, he was gripped so tightly by a coughing fit that didn't subside for quite some time and left him red-faced and breathless. Tonks was there with a glass of cold water and a warm embrace. Finally, he did manage to fall asleep once again. Tonks was there. She vowed she'd always be there.

Remus awoke a few hours later in a cold sweat, muttering indistinctly about strange, random, and fantastic things.

"Tonks?" He asked. "What is the Minister of Magic doing in my flat?" He then fell back against the pillow. Tonks, understanding his delirium, went and soaked the washcloth in cold water. She began to gently bathe his face with it, knowing his illusions were due to high fever.

"Feels good," he murmured almost incoherently. Tonks continued to bathe his face in cool water as he, in his delirious, weakened state, continuously moaned and muttered nonsensical things.

Tonks managed to get his fever down a little. She worked tirelessly, worried and scared but resolute all the same. She had to get him well again, not just for his benefit, but so she could hear his reasons for making himself so bad in the first place – that is to say, why he'd showed up at her house two nights ago. She was beside herself with curiosity, though she had bidden herself not to let her imagination run wild.

Once he was sleeping soundly again, Tonks decided to give him a little space and retreated to his sitting room, where she sat on a chair with her legs tucked underneath her and settled down with a book and a cup of tea. The sun was hidden behind dark and foreboding thunderhead clouds. Another storm was brewing, just like last time there was a war impending. It was just as well. Remus was feeling so poorly, that it was only a small inconvenience with the summer storms.

"D-Dora?" Tonks was so absorbed in her book, _The Real Wolf Within_, (honestly, she thought, sniggering to herself, where did Remus _find _this, and why the hell did he get it?) that she didn't hear the soft, yet urgent question coming from the stairway.

"Dora?" Remus asked, a little louder, reaching the bottom of the stairs, causing Tonks to jump about a foot in the air and drop the book onto the floor.

"Remus!" She asked in surprise, startled. She got up quickly, abandoning the book but making a mental note to tease him relentlessly about it later. "Are you okay?"

"F-Fine," he said, shivering from the cold air that had hit him so suddenly. "Absolutely f-fine." He shuddered, folding his arms tightly across his chest to keep warm and giving a few wet, barking coughs.

"You should be in bed," Tonks said in a motherly sort of way. He sniffled congestedly. "You're not strong enough or well enough to be up and about." He shrugged lethargically, and another shiver wracked his weak frame. He swayed but did not fall. "Do you need something?" She inquired, doing a quick once-over on him with her eyes.

His legs were trembling; that was a fact. Standing – just standing still – and walking down the stairs had quickly sapped his energy, and he was quaking hard with chills from being hit so suddenly with cold air. He was slightly panting, and his wheeze was unmistakable. Beads of sweat had popped up on his brow. His eyes looked duller than normal. He looked tired and exhausted, the shadows beneath his eyes and his pale skin adding to the effect. He looked, if anything, worse than before.

"N-No," he answered, and she almost forgot she had asked a question. "I-I thought y-you'd l-left." Tonks looked at him very seriously for a second. One thing she hadn't noticed before was that he looked petrified. Tonks grinned kindly.

"Oh, no," she said, her eyes sparkling. "You can't get rid of me that easily!." Uncharacteristically, Remus didn't grin, nor did he blush. Tonks frowned, her amusement suddenly fading.

"Remus?" He got a faraway and distant look in his eyes, sort of like Professor Trelawney used to, back when Tonks was at Hogwarts. When his eyes refocused, he looked at her in a blind panic.

"T-Tonks-!" He cried out before promptly collapsing yet again from a sudden fever spike.

Tonks ran over to where he lay, limp and motionless, this time barely breathing. She had tears in her eyes as she knelt over his battered, frail, and lifeless-looking body. She smoothed his bangs back away from his face compulsively and lifted him up. She carefully attempted to carry him back to the room. He was so tall that she half-carried, half-dragged him back up the stairs. She tucked him back between cool white sheets and forced the thermometer into his mouth. She gently traced the faint glimmers of his scars as she waited. Her breath caught.

The readout was back at 105. She had managed to get it down to 103 earlier, but that seemed like a long time ago. Tonks soaked the washcloth in icy cold water and very tenderly placed it on his forehead. She went down to the kitchen and found a few plastic bags and some ice. She filled the bags with ice – a trick she'd learned from one of her father's Muggle television shows – and set one under each of Remus's arms to try and cool him down. She thought that this would surely rouse him, but she was mistaken. She bit her lip in fear and despair. She dipped her finger into some water and wet his lips with it. Still he remained unconscious.

She gently shook his shoulder and called his name over and over. She hoped it would rouse him and that he would be alright.

Remus's head was spinning. He tried to open his eyes and sit up, but he was so dizzy and in so much pain that the thought of it made him want to throw up. Surely one's head couldn't possibly hurt this badly and not split open. There was a dull throb in the back of his skull, and he could feel a sharp stab of pain behind his left eye.

He remembered hitting the ground. He figured that's where he should be, but no, this was too soft to be the ground. Then, he remembered her. He remembered the irrational and insensible yet unshakable fear and panic at waking to her being absent. He remembered feeling useless and vulnerable and afraid. But he'd seen her. She had been there all the time, and, like the great fool he was, he passed out again. He groaned softly. He felt terrible.

He tried blinking awake. He had to see her face, to show her, to reassure her that he was fine and would be fine. But he didn't feel fine. He felt bloody miserable. His headache was slowly increasing in intensity. _Please don't let it be a migraine_, he thought to himself silently. He couldn't let her worry. He couldn't. He didn't want her to go off and call a St. Mungo's Healer to show up at his flat, fuss over him, and tell them both what they already knew.

He couldn't help moaning softly as he tried to force his eyelids open. When he succeeded, he immediately wished he hadn't. The dim lights in the room agitated his head and eyes. He saw her standing over him with the jar of menthol rub. There was something uncomfortably cold under both his arms that, no matter how he fidgeted, did not budge. The frostiness of it caused him to shiver like a tree in the wind. He sniffled – though the congestion in his sinuses didn't budge – and only succeeded in aggravating his cough, which flared up again.

He felt vaguely detached, only half aware of where he was or how terrible he was feeling. He jumped slightly when he felt her cold and yet somehow soft and gentle hands rubbing the menthol balm on his upper chest. But he relaxed as the product began to do its job clearing his chest.

"Remus?" He heard her call his name, though it was sort of fuzzy and muffled-sounding, as though he was underwater. His vision was fuzzy and hazy. He continued to blink, forcing his eyes to remain open against the heaviness and tiredness, trying to see her better. Her face remained blurry in his vision.

"T-Tonks?" He forced his mouth to move, to say something, and, with his head pounding, her name was all he could think of. He winced at how rough his voice sounded. Speaking made his throat feel scratchy, like sandpaper.

"Oh, God," she breathed, her shoulders sagging in obvious relief. "You're okay!" Remus was still entirely confused.

"What-?" He started to ask, but she cut him off.

"You passed out when your fever spiked," she explained. She winced as she saw how he shuddered miserably under the blankets. He was still so hot though. "I'm sorry," she apologized, gripping his hand in hers. "I have to get it down." He merely continued to quake in response. He looked positively dreadful, she decided. She sat down next to him on the bed and gently ran her thumb down the length of his hairline comfortingly. Remus didn't know how, but somehow, she knew all the best ways to keep him calm and relaxed. His breathing quickly changed from irregular and choppy to more even and steady.

"There," she said, continuing with her gentle care. "That's right. Just relax." She kept up the pace. He rolled his head slightly to the side to look at her. She was looking back at him as though she wanted to say something.

"What?" He rasped, wincing again. She looked taken aback.

"What, what?" She responded.

"Y-You look l-like you w-want to… to say something," he remarked. She swallowed, blushed, and took a deep breath.

"Actually, I do," she confessed, still keeping up with her ritual caress. She bit her lip.

"Go ahead," he prompted, offering a weak smile. "I don't mind."

"Well, it's just that," she said, looking slightly abashed, "I was wondering – and I have been for quite a while now – what you were coming to my house to talk to me about." Remus didn't have to ask for more details or what instance she was talking about, for she could only be speaking of one time. There was a long silence in which Remus was sure she could hear his heart beating frantically in his chest. Now was the moment, whether he was ready or not. He sighed, eliciting another round of wet, weak coughs from his chest.

"You have a right to know," he conceded, and Tonks let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She had been sure he wasn't going to tell her. He sniffled, and she noticed his nose was dripping again. She pulled a hanky from her pocket, gently dabbed the raw skin beneath his nose with it, and clamped it over his nose. He looked startled.

"Blow," she instructed him. He blushed again, but did so. Nothing moved. He was blocked up solid. Tonks scooped a little more menthol rub onto her fingers and rubbed it into the skin under his nose and in the general area of his sinuses.

"There," she said, capping the jar and wiping the excess from her hands on her jeans. "That should help loosen you up a bit."

"Thanks," he croaked.

"You were saying?" She asked, conjuring up a second cool cloth. She unbuttoned his shirt halfway and used it to wipe down his chest. He instinctively tried to jerk out of her grip.

"It's cold," he commented, shivering.

"Relax," she said, moving the cloth to his neck where it would do the most good. "Let it help you." He nodded mutely and let her continue trying to get his fever back down. He sighed, trying to relax but shivering so hard that it was difficult to do so. His teeth were beginning to chatter audibly in his mouth, so he clenched them tightly together to keep her from hearing it. Tonks tucked an errant lock of hair behind his ear gently.

"I know it's cold," she said, "but I don't want you dehydrating from fever." He nodded.

"It's f-f-fine. Th-thanks," he said.

"Here," she said, pushing the thermometer back in his mouth. Used to this by now, Remus closed his eyes and waited patiently, trying not to move. "Let's see if it did any good," she said. When the little device beeped, she plucked the icy tube out from between his lips and read the small screen. Meanwhile, Remus coughed loudly and roughly.

His temperature had gone down considerably to 103.7 degrees, still high, but not as bad. Tonks sighed audibly in relief.

"Better," she said aloud to no one in particular, just to voice it. She turned to look at him and saw his eyes clenched shut in pain, a single tear sliding down his flushed cheek.

"Remus?" She asked, alarmed. She went back over to the bedside and placed a tender hand on his shoulder. He was panting slightly, trying to keep himself from coughing for Merlin only knew what reason. "What's the matter?"

"H-Head," he croaked, eyes still closed. "H-Headache." Tonks looked at him sympathetically.

"Migraine?" She asked gently, sitting on the side of the bed and taking a miserable Remus into her arms.

"Y-Yeah," he said, laying his head on her shoulder. "It'll pass." Suddenly, Tonks got a brilliant idea. She looked at him tentatively. He felt her look and turned his head upward to look at her. He immediately regretted it. A wave of vertigo washed over him and he felt sick and dizzy and lightheaded. Tonks lowered him onto the pillow and positioned him so he was lying on his side.

"Keep your eyes closed," she instructed. "Where does it hurt?"

"The b-back of my head," he directed. "B-both sides." Tonks gingerly touched her hands to two different points on the back of his head. He jumped out of his skin as a pain shot down his spine.

"Here?" She asked, though she was sure she knew the answer.

"Yeah," he said weakly, turning almost completely white he was so pale. She gently started to massage the points with her fingertips, and all the remaining color drained from the man's face. He tried to hold out, but it didn't work and he yelped in severe pain.

"I'm sorry," she said earnestly, but didn't slow down. She applied a little more pressure. She noticed then that he was turning a rather nasty shade of green. "Just relax," she murmured, still massaging where it hurt.

A half a second later, Remus bolted to the bathroom. Tonks hastily followed, aghast, knowing she must have been the source of the problem. In his haste, the ice bags had fallen to the ground, and she didn't bother picking it up. The washcloth was lost in the nest of blankets. She dashed toward the sound of violent retching.

She waited calmly in the doorway as he vomited, then knelt beside him and, shutting the lid of the toilet, summoned the cold cloth and pressed it against his brow. She flushed the contents of the bowl away with a flick of her wand. He looked dazed and exhausted, not to mention like he was suffering. His vision was swimming. He had no depth perception and nearly fell over. Tonks caught him in time and helped him keep balance.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, gently caressing him with the cloth. He slumped weakly into her awaiting arms.

"S'okay," he slurred. She let him lie back against her and gently rubbed the top of his head, careful to avoid trigger points.

Remus felt his body slowly relax, though he wasn't sure why. Could it have been Tonks? Could it have been the kindness and compassion with which she cared for him? He wasn't sure. All he knew was he was letting himself become totally vulnerable in her arms, and he was okay with it.

All talk of why Remus had gone to Tonks's house the past day was forgotten. Tonks was still brutally interested, but she had more pressing matters at hand at the moment. She felt responsible for making him vomit in such a painful, heinous way, and she felt terrible about it. She was determined to make it right. Remus sniffled weakly, and Tonks felt his body relax into hers, which made her a little happier. Obviously he was letting his guard down to let her take care of him. She knew this was a very big thing indeed, for Remus would have been up and moving and trying to work through the illness, making himself worse and not allowing anyone to fuss over him.

He was so comfortable he might have fallen asleep right there in her arms if it weren't for the fact that he'd just vomited and the repulsive stench of sick was making him nauseas again. He suddenly felt a cold something gently wiping off his mouth. The next thing he felt was her supporting him so he could stand.

"Just lean on me," Tonks instructed in a tinkling bell voice that bordered on laughter. She was feeling particularly giddy. She could even have laughed in relief. He was finally opening up to her. "I can think of at least seven better places for you to fall asleep than the bathroom floor." Remus managed a choked grin. He rinsed his mouth out and leaned heavily on Tonks, who led him back to bed.

Remus's head was still aching terribly, but he ignored the pain and breathed a sigh of relief when his head made contact with the blessedly cool and soft pillow. Tonks settled down next to him, pulling the blankets up under his chin and tucking them tightly around him. She lied down beside him. He curled around her instinctively, seeking out her warmth and comfort. She touched her gentle, blithe hands to his face and found it still hot as firewhiskey.

"You're still burning up," she murmured, pushing the sticky bangs out of his eyes with her cool hand and moving into a gentle caress of his face that left his heart racing and his flesh burning white-hot where she had touched it. "Just relax," she said. He did, letting himself rest against her chest. This had to be it. It had to be what love felt like, real love, the kind that never leaves you.

"You're good at this," he murmured sleepily. She smiled down at him.

"You could say I've had a good bit of practice," she mused, running her fingers soothingly through his hair.

"Mmm," he replied, his eyes starting to close. He moved in still closer to her and laid his head against the cool of her collarbone.

"Sleep," she encouraged, relaxing herself. He would, he decided. How he wanted to! How he wanted to elapse into a blissful and empty sleep. But he owed her something first, especially after her kindness and patience.

"Would you like to know why I was at your house the other day?" He asked weakly, catching Tonks by surprise – which was no small feat, since the girl had been trained by Alastor Moody, Mr. "Constant Vigilance" himself. Her breath caught audibly. Could this really be the moment she found out?

"Are you up to telling me?" The words left her mouth in barely a whisper.

"Of course," he answered. "Don't be ridiculous." He took a deep breath and took her hand in his.

"I came to apologize for the way I've been acting," he said. "I know that, in light of everything that has happened, I really am taking a ridiculous post on this. Ever since the funeral, things have been different – somehow more… real to me. And I'm afraid of how it's escalating. I don't ever want to hurt you, Dora. And so, I came to tell you the truth: I love you. I always have, and I always will. And if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I'd also like to add that I promise I will never hurt you again." Tonks was rendered completely speechless.

"Remus John Lupin!" She finally exclaimed when she finally found her voice. She looked fierce, passionate, and somewhat angry. Remus jumped in alarm, not expecting such a fiery look. She stared deeply into his dark eyes. It finally sunk in what he had said. He loved her. _He loved her_. At long last, what she had been hoping and wishing and praying to hear. He loved her.

Suddenly, she was embracing him, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her breath was catching, and she was suppressing sobs of joy.

"You walk miles and miles in the rain to get to my flat when you're already sick from the aftereffects of the full moon, you refuse to Apparate, – which would save time and energy and your health – just to tell me you love me?" Her tears fell, landing on his shoulder. He embraced her back as tightly as he could manage, nodding. The thought of what he had done to confess his love for her made her cry harder. She heard his quiet, ragged breathing and felt moisture on her own shoulder and knew he was crying too. They embraced for a long time. Finally, they disentangled themselves from one another.

"Any man who's fool enough to do that must really love me," she said, wiping her eyes with her hand. Remus repeated this gesture, as there were still tears in his own eyes he hastily swiped away.

"I do," he whispered, his thin frame shaking.

"You're trembling, love," Tonks pointed out softly.

"I feel awful," he confessed. "But at least now you know, and I feel better now that you do. I was hoping you'd be willing to take another chance on me and try again?" Tonks couldn't believe it. This was all she'd ever wanted.

"Always," she whispered, stroking back his hair.

"Hold me?" He inquired apprehensively. Tonks, seizing her opportunity, wrapped her arms around his trembling shoulders without a second thought. He laid his head wearily against her shoulder, his arms snaking around her waist. She leaned back against the headboard, and he used her shoulder like a pillow, laying against her. He felt her pull him close, and he suddenly and without warning relaxed completely into her arms, freely succumbing to her love and care and comfort and compassion. She was so good to him. He wanted to be there for her and be her everything, just as she was to him. She gently kissed his forehead, pushing his hair back in the process.

"If I've told you once, I've told you a million times," she quipped, "forever." It was a promise. Remus sighed and closed his eyes, breathing in her sweet scent and wonderful presence.

Suddenly, an idea dawned on the ever-mischievous girl.

"Hey, Rem?"

"Hmm?" He asked, almost asleep.

"You don't suppose you're contagious, do you?" She asked, knowing she didn't really care about the answer at this point.

"I highly doubt it," Remus murmured. "I can always catch them, but as a werewolf, I can't give them out." A rush of adrenaline shot through Tonks like a bullet.

"Good," she said. "Now I certainly won't feel as bad about what I am about to do."

"Wha-?" Remus started to ask confusedly. But he never got to finish, because suddenly, Tonks pressed her lips to his to shut him up. Remus sighed deeply, closing his eyes and savoring the moment. It was over too soon. Remus looked up at her.

"Not that I'm not perfectly okay with it, but what are you doing?" He managed to sputter out. "You're going to catch… oh." He finally understood her previous question about his level of contagion. She smiled. So typical Remus. Always wanting a rationale, never actually enjoying the moment. And always, always worried about her. That was the best part.

"I'm trying to make you feel better, now shut up and help me!" She said, and before he could respond, or wipe his nose, or cough, or sneeze, or anything his body really needed to do at that very moment, she was snogging him more passionately than she had ever daydreamed about doing. And it was true: she _was_ making him feel marginally better. His body responded to her "treatment" rather well. Suddenly, his sinuses cleared. His nose stopped threatening to leak on her lips. His chest loosened a little, and the urge to cough died away. And the tickle in his nose halted, causing the sneeze to dissipate. His fever raged on. He was still exhausted and achy and congested. But it didn't seem so bad with her snogging him. He felt happier and freer than he'd ever felt in his life. Her kiss was amazing and wonderful, better than any medicine for him, better than remedies or potions or Pepper Up, and better, much better, than anything else in the world.

Soon, too soon, the moment was over. Tonks was staring unabashedly at him, a small smile on her lips. He was shivering harder than ever with chills, exuberance, and raw, undiluted passion.

"You still look a bit peaky, love," Tonks said softly, running her lips gently down his jaw line. She pulled the covers up over the both of them and held him a bit tighter to her.

"Well, I _feel _better, if that means anything," he murmured.

"That was the plan," Tonks laughed. He closed his eyes and snuggled up as close to her as was possible.

"You know, I could get used to this," he murmured.

"Me too," Tonks whispered as Remus fell fast asleep. Tonks smiled, tucking an errant lock of hair behind his ear and dabbing at his nose – which had begun to run again – with her handkerchief.

"I've told you a million times, Remus," she said softly. "I don't care. I don't care who or what or how you are. I love you." A small tear of joy ran down her cheek. "And you love me, too." In his fevered sleep, Remus gave a small smile.

The End

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><p><strong>I hope you all liked it. Reviews would be wonderful! Thanks!<strong>


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